Alcott, Louisa May. Little Women. Akron, OH: The Saalfield Publishing Company, 1929. prose found on pages 11-12.
the hottest mess
I have to say, I kinda miss those hot messy days
During my twenties, my personal life was the hottest mess. The hottest. It will never be that messy again because I’ve grown up and I finally give enough of a damn about myself to avoid burning myself in that kind of fire.
Roxane Gay – Hunger
Scarlett Rose MacDavid, born 7:37 p.m. Central Time yesterday. My first grandchild. I’ll be making up a astrological chart for her later today.
Happiness is a baby girl.
It’s Saturday afternoon & my daughter-in-law has been in labor for over twenty-four hours. I have barely slept & I know I won’t sleep tonight if she hasn’t delivered Scarlett Rose. My son has called me with updates but it’s really nothing more than they’re still waiting for the little one to make her decision to come forth into the world. She must have stage fright. I know what that’s like. But I never let that stop me. I hope that won’t stop my granddaughter.
The cats, of course, could care less. They’re sleeping on the living room furniture in the Saturday sun. The warmth of the last few days & the rain has melted most of the snow. By this time next week, I’ll have the furniture moved & the Yule decorations in place. New stuff for the kitties to play with!
& of course, by this time next week, I’ll be a grandmother! Hopefully by this time tomorrow.
Hopefully within a few hours.
This is true, ya know
There will come a time when all of us are dead. All of us. There will come a time when there are no human beings remaining to remember that anyone ever existed or that our species ever did anything. There will be no one left to remember Aristotle or Cleopatra, let alone you. Everything that we did and built and wrote and thought and discovered will be forgotten and all of this will have been for naught. Maybe that time is coming soon and maybe it is millions of years away, but even if we survive the collapse of our sun, we will not survive forever. There was time before organisms experienced consciousness, and there will be time after. And if the inevitability of human oblivion worries you, I encourage you to ignore it. God knows that’s what everyone else does.
John Green – The Fault in Our Stars
When I was about 20 years old, I met an old pastor’s wife who told me that when she was young and had her first child, she didn’t believe in striking children, although spanking kids with a switch pulled from a tree was standard punishment at the time. But one day, when her son was four or five, he did something that she felt warranted a spanking – the first in his life. She told him that he would have to go outside himself and find a switch for her to hit him with.
The boy was gone a long time. And when he came back in, he was crying. He said to her, “Mama, I couldn’t find a switch, but here’s a rock that you can throw at me.”
All of a sudden the mother understood how the situation felt from the child’s point of view: that if my…
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I am a house, too
i Mother says there are locked rooms inside all women; kitchen of lust, bedroom of grief, bathroom of apathy. Sometimes the men - they come with keys, and sometimes, the men - they come with hammers. ii Nin soo joog laga waayo, soo jiifso aa laga helaa, I said Stop, I said No and he did not listen. iii Perhaps she has a plan, perhaps she takes him back to hers only for him to wake up hours later in a bathtub full of ice, with a dry mouth, looking down at his new, neat procedure. iv I point to my body and say Oh this old thing? No, I just slipped it on. v Are you going to eat that? I say to my mother, pointing to my father who is lying on the dining room table, his mouth stuffed with a red apple. vi The bigger my body…
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You may have heard about the big lake effect snowstorm we’re having here in Western NY. Since I live in the “northtowns”, I haven’t seen as much snow as the people living in the “southtowns” (around Highmark Stadium where the Buffalo Bills play) or the southern counties known as the “southerntier”, but it’s been a respectable amount of snow. I’ve had to shovel & with my bad back, that means making a path from my back door to the street, an area where a vehicle can pull in, & a path to my front door. I am no longer able to shovel the entire driveway, especially when it’s heavy wet snow like what’s falling now.
The cats love looking at falling snow. Radar often attacks the window, trying to catch one of the snowflakes. Bobby just watches them fall.
I apologize for the bad quality of the picture, but the brightness of the snow outdoors made the indoors seem darker than usual, even with lights on.
Meyer, Bernadette. “Incandescent War Poem Sonnet”. The Reality Street Book of Sonnets. Edited by Jeff Hilson. Hastings: Reality Street Editions, 2008. poem is found on page 126